Power
by HeathenVampires
Summary: When Ingrid realises Vlad wants her, she plots how best to use it. Vlad/Ingrid. Kind of fluffy.


**I don't own the characters, I just play with them.**

 **Warning for... not underage but Vlad is not long 16 in this, Ingrid is what, somewhere between 2 and 4 years older? Oh, and the incest thing again I guess. But you should know that by now.**

 **Takes place early season 3, when Vlad rescues his sister after she gets ill.**

-YD-

Vlad hovered over Ingrid, every rattling breath she took like a stake through his heart. He didn't want to have rescued her from the slayers only to lose her to... whatever this was.

His father was swinging between a twisted glee at the pain and misery in the room, and anger at Vlad for lying about the mindwipe on Renfield. It didn't matter much, except his father was exacting revenge by making Renfield produce potions for amusement. Vlad glared angrily as each "cure" only made it worse. Where Ingrid was concerned, Vlad had always had to suppress his vampire instincts, to kill and hurt anyone who hurt her. She was his older sister but he'd always felt like he had to protect her, even from himself.

Growling that his next potion had better work, Renfield scuttled back to his workspace, and Vlad settled back to his musings and watchful eye. Even as she slowly weakened, he noticed she was still beautiful, not that he'd expected it to change in the years since they'd seen each other. He'd hoped the time apart and his transformation into full vampire, if not full chosen one yet, would help him quash the feelings he'd always tried to convince himself were entirely brotherly. It wasn't his fault, the only vampiress he'd seen that wasn't his mother flashing in and out of his life, or his grandmother threatening him with dismemberment if he didn't start acting like a real vampire, was Ingrid. That had to have an effect on a boy going through vampire puberty. It had to be that. Because Vlad couldn't reconcile that the only person he'd ever wanted to touch, to strip and admire and worship with his whole body, was his older sister.

His chest throbbing with guilt, he still breathed a sigh of relief as his father coughed up the cure for her illness, and the potion to reverse the 'comical' effects on her face took effect. Her voice croaky, her face tight with pain, she bickered back and forth with the Count as his whole body seemed to sag, the tension of fearing she wouldn't make it leaving his muscles. Vlad dimly noted Erin hanging around, flashing her a grateful smile for helping to take care of Ingrid. She smiled back, nodded at him then retreated off to her room, he wasn't sure why but didn't think more on it as his attention went back to Ingrid. Sliding his arms under her, he asked Renfield to set up a coffin in an empty room for her, and settled her in to rest. Ignoring her weak protests that she didn't need his help, he left a bottle of soya blood (she'd come around eventually, he was sure) next to the coffin. Wishing he could stay, he knew he had to keep up appearances, couldn't let anyone suspect the thoughts in his mind, and so he sped to his room, throwing on his uniform and going back to class like nothing had happened. His mind wasn't on the work, it was upstairs with his sister.

The day seemed to melt away from him, and almost before he knew it, Vlad was rushing back upstairs, forcing himself to retain a semblance of normality and taking the time to change out of his uniform, pulling on a comfortable tshirt and some fitted but worn in jeans. Shaking his head at his outfit, he wondered if it was a subconscious choice to wear all black, as though his sister would see him looking more vampy and suddenly forget he was her nerdy little 'breather loving' brother and want him too. Pushing down the flame of hope in his chest, Vlad held the "she's your sister" at the forefront of his mind, before speeding back to his sisters room. Stopping to knock, he heard "If you come in it had better be with real blood you garlic muncher!" He smiled in spite of himself, same old Ingrid. Pushing the door open, he stuck his head in, needing to see her awake and alive. He beat a hasty retreat when she used her powers to fling the (sigh) still full bottle of soya blood at his head. She was getting better then, though he knew that she was still weak as at full strength, she would have thrown it herself. Sighing in defeat, he popped off to get her a bottle from the cellar. His dad would just have to deal with it, she needed her strength.

After delivering the bottle, and recieving a few choice insults about how he was bat brained and as useful as garlic filled pizza crust, he wandered back to his room, opting to pretend he could think about something other than Ingrid. He'd had years of practice after all.

* * *

Pain. A tightness in her chest she hadn't felt since before her transformation, that time she'd tried on one of her mothers corsets and pulled it too tight, bruising all her ribs. Still she had to run. The slayers, the sunlight, the fire, the past. It was all catching up with her as she felt her strength fading.

"If you want to live, get in!" A car door, a sanctuary. Ingrid didn't care who it was, at this point the slayers were going to catch her anyway, anything was worth a shot. Jumping in, the car sped away, she could see the shrinking figures of the slayers in the distance. "You're safe here. I'm one of you." A bite mark. The windows were UV filtered. "What happened to your face?" She thought she answered, she wasn't sure. Her body tensed, the pain burning through her. Responding in the negative to the half fangs question of family, Ingrid looked into the mirror again. The van was following them, the slayers had found them.

The next events were a blur, suddenly Vlad was there and there was fire. He told the blonde to take her somewhere, she thought she heard school. She remembered lying down in the car, then Vlad was helping her up lots of stairs. There was a verbal scuffle, then she found herself laying on a sofa, and remembered pain and potions, cruel laughter. A tender hand across her forehead, though she may have become delirious by then. She thought she heard Erin, the half fangs name was Erin, mumbling behind her, but then she was vomiting smoke and dust pouring out of her, like she was dying from the inside out.

More pain. More potions. She recognised Vlad's angry voice, and then finally, finally, the pain started to recede with whatever they pushed into her mouth the last time. One more potion to remove the hair her decaying zombie of a father and that useless bat dropping Renfield had put on her for their own amusement, an exchange of insults. Then she was being lifted, carried. Her mind rebelled at this vulnerability, but it didn't slow her carrier. Laid down in a coffin, she found it oddly fitting and amusing given that she'd almost died. A clink of glass against the floor. Then the faint sound of a vampire speeding away. She knew she wasn't going anywhere, so allowed her eyes to close and succumb to sleep.

* * *

The next few weeks were a rush of colour and darkness, school and watching over Ingrid. He felt the lightness in his chest rise as she grew stronger, as he became more secure in the knowledge she was going to get better. He wasn't sure where it came from, but Erin produced a wheelchair from somewhere, and Ingrid was able to leave her coffin for longer and longer bouts of time, then unsteady steps around as she readjusted to walking. Vlad ached with the fear of how close he had come to losing her. Every night his dreams were plagued with his darker desires, his craving to be closer to his sister. He tried to fight it, pushed himself to nurture the crush Erin evidently had on him as she sat and listened to him talk of how he wanted peace, how he never wanted to hurt a human. Those conversations kept him sane, reminded him he was fighting for more than just himself, that he had the power of the chosen one to push the rest of the vampire world to do as he wanted. Two more years and he would be in charge, ruling over the High Council, free of his fathers regency, no longer under anyones control.

A warm hand slid through his as they walked back from school to the quarters higher up, a surprise to him as Erin clearly hadn't finished changing. He turned to smile at her, letting her grip anchor him to something other than despair. It didn't matter in the end, as secrets tumbled out. Ingrid's illness had been caused by her biting Erin's brother. Erin wasn't a half fang, she was a slayer here to avenge her brother. Before he could really digest everything happening, she was gone. The Count swanned around declaring he always knew something was off about her, she had rescued Ingrid after all. Vlad just gritted his teeth and did his best to avoid his father, angering him further by skiving off training his powers.

Ingrid was all but back to full health, out of her wheelchair, stalking around like she owned the place and, without the distraction of Erin, Vlad found his twisted lust for his sister growing stronger with each passing day. He spent most of his time hiding in his room, locking his coffin over him to ensure she was safe, that he couldn't goand act on these terrible longings. Miss McCauley pulled him into her office every other day, asking if everything was alright, saying his grades were slipping and she wanted to help, but he'd just mumble about being sad Erin had gone and rushing away as soon as possible. He even briefly considered leaving, but that would leave Ingrid and the Count alone and he had to protect her from that. His father congratulated him on his new dark disposition, his ever darkening wardrobe as Vlad began to reflect his losing the battle in the way he dressed, black to match the dark moods, the guilt that rose up in his chest every time he looked at Ingrid.

* * *

She knew. Ingrid reckoned her brother thought she was oblivious, that she couldn't see the hunger that flashed across his face before it crumpled into shame every time he looked at her. It was almost sweet. watching him fall apart even as he was supposedly growing more powerful. She relished in the secret power she had over the future ruler, ignoring the brother label in favour of pushing the limits. She chose more and more tempting outfits, confident in her beauty, her hold over anyone who so much as glanced in her direction. His eyes would linger on her skintight trousers, the graceful way she walked in spite of the heels she favoured, as she knew they complimented her slender legs. She fought back a smile each time his eyes strayed over her chest, the tight dresses she selected as she knew they framed her breasts perfectly. It didn't matter they were related, not anymore, it mattered that she had control over his power.

She could use it. The first bite of the chosen one was hers for the taking, and now she was fully recovered, she was going after it. Once she had that power, his power, she would be unstoppable in her bid to overthrow the old ways, girl power would well and truly be in. It was time to seize her destiny.

It helped of course that in the time she'd been away, he'd grown from the weedy little boy who squeaked in surprise whenever she caught him looking, into an attractive... well he wasn't a man yet but he would be. He wasn't overtly muscular, but his wiry frame still promised strength, she knew that when he carried her effortlessly to her coffin. His rounded face had slimmed down to show high cheekbones, his transformation prohibiting his taste for sunlight, meaning his skin was smooth and pale. She hadn't failed to notice his wardrobe choices, how the black made a stark contrast as it framed slim hips, Oh yes, she could work with that.

Ingrid knew how to choose her timing. Vlad was skulking in his room again, pretending he was normal when he was anything but. The Count and his servant were in his room, selecting the next outfit he would attempt to impress that breather headmistress with. No sooner than he'd sped off, eager to sate his perversion for humans, had Ingrid scared Renfield witless and sent him off to reorganise the blood cellar, by year and alphabet. He barely knew the alphabet, she knew she'd bought herself plenty of time. Lowering the zip on her jacket so it drew a V line to her cleavage, it was time to sate her own perversions.

If only it were that simple.

* * *

He'd held off as long as possible, fighting his mind and his body constantly, but Vlad was only human. Well, vampire. The constant tension in his body needed an outlet, he told himself, even as he tightened his grip on his erection, eyes closed as he pictured colder hands, painted nails, dark eyes and darker hair. It wasn't wrong if nobody knew, he thought, even as he bit his lip to quiet the impulse to cry out her name. Images of long, snow white legs, smooth skin and sharp fangs pulled him closer to the edge, his own fangs cutting his lip as he lost control, spilling over his hand even as he licked the blood from his lip. Vampire blood didn't really taste of anything, it was how their body used the leftover liquid after their body took the nutrients it needed. Filled the useless veins that led from their unbeating hearts, dripped out when they nicked themselves on fang or glass. Shaking with release, he pulled himself into a sitting position, wiping his hand clean on a tissue before setting it on fire. Nobody had to know.

Shaking his head, he made to tuck himself away before he descended down to dinner, to the time of day he had to constantly focus on not staring at Ingrid. His father thought he'd developed a taste for vampire food at last, in reality Vlad couldn't even taste it, just cleaned his plate as fast as possible before rushing away, cock hardening as his sisters slim figure hovered in the corner of his vision. His door swung open, revealing the very object of his desires. He clapped both hands over his groin, hoping to play off the position as natural. Laughing eyes could clearly read his panicked expression, smirking lips told him she could smell the arousal that hung in the air, he hadn't had time to open the window as he usually did. Shame burned his throat as he hung his head, hoping she'd just assume he was embarassed to be caught by his sister, and she'd leave in amused disgust.

No such luck. Her heels clicked into the room, the door closing behind her at a thought. Feeling awkward, he tried to act casual and lifted his head so he could tell her to get out. He was caught short as he took her in. The trousers she'd had since she was 16, the ones he was certain were responsible for his first hard on as a confused youth, not understanding the tingle in his stomach or the stiffness in his underwear. Black heels, elongating her perfect legs further as he followed them up her body. Skin tight black jacket, zip pulled down just so, exposing her breasts, a glimpse of lace just visible enough that Vlad thought she may not be wearing anything other than a bra beneath it. In spite of his recent stress relief, he felt his body responding to her again.

"Am I late for d-d-dinner?" He choked out, mortifyingly hardening in front of her. A shake of the head was all the answer she gave. "No, little brother." He _hated_ the twitch that gave him, his twisted desire for his sister stoked by her reminding him, they were related, they were blood. Her voice was low, washing over him like silk and he bit back a groan as his cock pressed against the hands covering it. He froze as she moved closer, the picture of perfection as a pale hand reached out, hovering closer to him even as his mind pictured her touching him, his cock throbbing in reponse. Cool fingers wrapped over his wrist, a minutes struggling and she was pulling his hands away, eyes fixed on his erection. It twitched under her attention, straining towards her in blatant desire. She took a step back, and he couldn't suppress a whine of loss, even though she hadn't touched more than his wrists.

Eyes following her hands, he couldn't stop his fangs, his hunger as she lowered the zip, shrugging it off to reveal milky skin, tantalising lace holding her breasts the way he longed to, the curve of her hips disappearing into those sinful trousers. A quick glance up to her face saw her lips curl into a seductive smile, fangs glinting just so, before he resumed his hungry staring at her torso. Vlad felt he had to commit the sight to memory, just incase this was all a wonderful dream and he would wake up, alone and hard against his clothes before having to satisfy himself again. Even as his eyes took in every inch of her, she raised her hands, releasing the front clasp of her bra, before pushing her arms out behind her as it fell from her body. Her chest pushed towards him, Vlad groaned at the sight of her breasts, the same perfect canvas as the rest of her, the merest flush of colour around her nipples. His erection was painful, but he was loathe to move for fear that he'd ruin the moment, or that she'd disappear. His dark side was screaming in his head, the desire to touch and taste and bruise and bite her coursing through him.

"Your turn Vlad." she nodded at his shirt, he didn't even think before tearing it clean off his body, thrumming with desire to feel her skin against his. A glimmer of self consciousness shot across his mind, he was nothing special, she was perfection. He wasn't prepared for the widening of her eyes, the momentary opening of her mouth as she took in his body, caught off guard by the body he'd always kept hidden. Pectoral muscles not bulging, but solid, broad shoulders leading down to a tapered waist, defined abdominals, his erection curving up toward his stomach as it rose clear from his unbuttoned jeans. She caught herself quickly, her confident smile returning as she decided there were worse options if she was about to defile her baby brother. Maybe taking up rugby as a teen had been good for him, he mused as his muscles quivered with suppressed desire to attack her, to _bite_ , to take.

* * *

Pushing away her momentary lapse, Ingrid lowered her hands to her waist, fingers sliding under the waistband of her favourite leather trousers, sliding her feet free of her heels, they'd get in the way right now. Vlad was actively panting at her now, his body shaking as his eyes raked over her body. Well, no going back now. He was scrambling to remove his own jeans, wanting to be naked before her so he could waste no time that could be spent looking at her body. Bending over to slide the leather over her legs, she took her time straightening up, revealing to Vlad she had forgone the matching underwear, or any underwear for that matter. His hips gave an involuntary buck as his eyes fixed between her thighs, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. She noted the small nick, he'd cut himself on his fangs earlier it seemed. Eyes taking in the room, his coffin was custom fitted to him so it was out as an idea. Stretching herself out across his little couch, he finally moved, leaping out of the coffin to press his body to hers. She barely had time to smirk at his speed before his lips were upon hers, fangs pressing her lower lip, tongue rasping over her own before exploring her mouth. He pulled back, panting, eyes dark with arousal, evident in the erection pressing into her abdomen.

She saw the question in his face, even as he shook with restraint. She nodded at him, relishing in the desire as his mouth found her neck, the feel of his teeth scraping fuelling her as she remembered why she was here, what she would get from him. Allowing herself the feeling, she arched and sighed in pleasure as he sucked on her neck. Every vampires weak spot. He pressed hard enough to break skin on her collarbone, groaning as though she were human as he licked the droplets of blood that spilled. She felt hands on her thighs, easing them open so he could kneel between them. Her body pressed closer, pleasure spreading from each spot he raised bruises on her chest. Grabbing hold of his hair, tugging hard enough for him to pull away, just for a second, she pressed his face against her breast. He caught on quickly, suckling at her nipple as his fingers found the other, pinching roughly.

Pleasure. Ingrid felt... alive. His desire was intoxicating, the pressure of his tongue, his fingers, the hardness nudging between her thighs now. She felt like he wanted to devour her, and at this moment, nothing mattered but the way he made her feel. Thoughts of blood, of power, they slipped away as he pressed kisses down her stomach, nipping at her hip bones to raise more bruises before his arms were wrapped around her thighs, his tongue spreading her open and his groans vibrating against skin as he tasted her. He sucked at her clitoris, pressed the flat of his tongue over every inch of the sensitive flesh in front of him. A bizarre amusement took her for a second, that Vlad was this good at anything, before it disappeared as she was racing towards her orgasm as his fingers slid inside her, her wet hole accepting him easily as he crooked his fingers up, dragging over a spot she hadn't known existed before she was grabbing his hair, holding him there as she screamed, thrashed and came on his tongue.

Her grip relaxed and his face lifted away from her, she could see her arousal evident on his skin, then he was wiping his fingers over the wetness and sucking it off, his face showing obvious pleasure as he tasted her come on him. A pressure against her thigh, reminding her she hadn't touched him yet, he was still hard and ready and wanting her. A new flood of arousal took her, raising her hips in invitation as his eyes followed the movement. He looked at her face again, needing to know she wanted this. In answer she pressed down, felt the head of his cock against her and moaned as her sensitive nerves were stimulated again. He slid over her, the underside of his cock pressing against her clit and her body shook, trembling with an overload of pleasure. He slid back then, his hand holding him in place as he pushed inside her.

Ingrid knew she was wet, relaxed from her orgasm, but it had been so long since she had been pushed open this way, she felt breathless as his thick cock stretched her, moulding her body to fit him. He stopped as he bottomed out, his eyes full of a mix of desire and concern. A flash of... something, some emotion, hit the back of her eyes before she closed them and pushed against him, encouraging him to move, to fuck her properly _right now_.

* * *

Vlad was in heaven. His dreams coming true. There was no other words for the way he'd felt, the taste of Ingrid still filled his mouth, her scent was all around him. He'd made her moan, made her come with his mouth, his fingers. He wanted to worship the dark goddess beneath him forever, but then she was inviting him, her body demanding him inside her now. His eyes found hers, needing to know she wanted it. Her reply was to press her wet and ready pussy against him, He frotted against her, recieving a moan and and shiver in response, before taking hold of his suddenly frenzied cock, pressing against her til her body accepted him in, slowly filling her, stretching her. As their hips met, he waited, supressing his need to take her before she was ready. He though he saw a tear rise in her eye, but then she had closed them and was pushing and squeezing around him and the wet, silken grip on his cock had him moving. He thrusted slowly, his mind awash with sensations. She was so tight, so wet, it felt so good, he wasn't sure he could ever stop. His body was demanding release, pushing him to speed up, but her answering moans and meeting his thrusts told him she was right there with him, his instincts for the age old dance taking over as his hips slammed against hers, feeling the heat in his cock reach fever pitch he slid his thumb over her clit, pressing down til she cried out again and her body clamped down around him, a shocked moan falling out of him as he came, her cries echoing in his ears as he saw stars, his hips stuttering as he tried to chase the feeling.

Eventually the rush eased, his skin cooling as his cock softened. He pulled back, fighting to stay on his knees rather than crush his weight on his sister. He felt the familiar guilt as that word echoed in his mind, but it was met with memories, feelings, a tingle in his spine as he felt arousal in spite of himself. Ingrid slowly sat up, and he couldn't help but reach out a hand to move her sweaty fringe off her face, a smile breaking out across his face.

* * *

Ingrid saw the dopey smile, felt his hand brush across her forehead, a vague memory of tender touches like that when she was sick. He'd been caring for her all this time, fighting the apparently very powerful desire he felt for her, in spite of everything she'd ever said and done to him over the years. She'd bullied him, mocked him, left him for dead when the slayers attacked. And even after all that, all the time that had passed, he had treasured and pleasured her body so thoroughly she couldn't quite process it all. Feeling a kiss against her cheek, she saw him stand up, pulling on clean shorts and tshirt before offering her some of his clean clothes, given that hers would be uncomfortable after that... workout. Emotion choked up inside her as she saw him try to take care of her, offering her a way to cover herself, to fight the vulnerability of being naked and fucked and obviously half way to a melt down.

She pulled on the clothes, heard the window creak open, then darted out of his room. She didn't see the sad look on his face, she barely even saw where she was going, not stopping til she was safely locked in her own room. A dried stain on her wall, the minute shards of glass glittering where she'd thrown the soya blood at him that first day back, punishing him for trying to take care of her, and she was crying. She'd gone there to seduce him, to take his power for herself and instead she'd surrendered to a passion she hadn't known he possessed. Curling up in her coffin, she cursed the clothes that smelled of him even as she wrapped her arms around herself, Mascara stained tears dropped onto her leg, before she remembered her makeup, scrubbing a couple of wipes over her face before tightening into a ball, emotion leaking out of her eyes. He didn't just want her, he loved her. And she wasn't sure she could handle that.

 **I don't know where this came from, I wanted to write a less... feral VladxIngrid than the first and this is what came out. I blame Bertrand, I have a VladxIngridxBertrand thing knocking around in my head at the minute and Bertrand is always distracting.**

 **Reviews are appreciated, requests are welcome!**


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